Worth The Pain
by CurrentlyEatingPizza
Summary: Katniss told her story. Now Cato and Clove will tell theirs. ***I don't own anything. This will not have an alternate ending. It will be the Games from Cato/Clove's point of view up until their deaths*** • ON POSSIBLY PERMANENT HIATUS.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

_She lifts the knife, a dangerous smile playing across her face. The boy tilts his chin and tightens his grip on the sword. "Twenty-four of us go in, one comes out. You won't be leaving alive," he says in a voice that doesn't reach a pitch louder than a growl. _

"_Like hell I will," she hisses back. "Those who underestimate me don't seem to live long." She angles the blade so it catches the light. _

"_You don't scare me," he scoffs, rolling his eyes._

_The girl is up in his face instantly, knife at his throat. "That's what they all say." _

_She feels cold metal against her stomach. Crap. The sword. She looks up at his face. He smirks, knowing she's trapped._

_She does some sort of crazy backflip, kicking away the weapon, and lands on her feet, poised to throw the knife at his heart._

_He snarls, and they begin the real fight. She slides the short blade back into her jacket and picks out a long dagger, using it to duel his sword. He may be bigger, but she's faster tenfold. _

_Twenty minutes pass, then half an hour, an hour and a half, two. They're locked in a wild dance of slashing blades and flying knives. _

_She pins him down to the ground and holds him at knifepoint. He struggles and struggles, to no avail. He slumps down, seemingly admitting defeat, that this small girl bested him in combat. She relaxes and begins to get off him, when he blasts upwards, sending her flying. _

"_Never assume an enemy is defeated unless he's dead," he says with a wicked smirk._

_That was only the beginning._


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

_**Cato**_

I'm standing off to the side of the training room, drinking water, when the blade shoots into the wall, barely an inch from my face. I jump, the slightest motion. Ugh. I'm off my game today. I turn around and spot the thrower, standing in a cocky stance that infuriates me so.

Clove tilts her chin at me and grins. "Lucky you were standing so far back. I misjudged."

"What the hell, Clove?" I snap. We both know perfectly well that had she really wanted to, she could have pinned me to the wall by my hair. "Fuck off."

"Mhm, you just won't admit that I had you scared for a minute there," she says with a smug smile. I growl and pull myself up to my full height, 6'3. Clove is a measly 5'2, despite all her deadliness.

"Oh you wanna settle this, here, now, kitten?" I barely manage to control my voice.

"Sure. I know you're scared," she smirks again. Truth be told, I'm confident in my abilities, but that little girl is FAST.

I adopt a cocky grin and tilt my chin. "Try me."

"My knives versus your…ah…gargantuan piece of crap," she says, nodding toward the sword strapped across my back.

NOBODY INSULTS MY BABY AND GETS AWAY WITH IT. "Oh, its on," I growl. "It's on."

**A/N: Sooooooo this is how that fight in the prologue began, just FYI. It probably doesn't even make sense, but I kinda wrote this after I wrote that one...so...yeah. =P I'll get working on a new chapter today, so keep an eye out. PLEASE READ AND REVIEW SOME SUGGESTIONS AS TO WHAT YOU WANT TO HAPPEN BEFORE THE GAMES. Thanks!  
**


	3. Chapter 2

Clove:

Cato doesn't like me. He doesn't like my attitude, or the fact that I'm the only one in the entire Academy that is more superior at their specialty than him. Well, mister daddy's boy, not everything in the world has to bend to your will. If my will was the universal law, my father would not have walked out on us, nor would my sister have died alone in the cold rain on that fateful day. But that has made me who I am today.

These vengeful thoughts are pouring through my head as I fight. It's a normal afternoon in the cold months of the year; however I'm sweating furiously as I attempt to not get impaled by a sword blade. My _genius_ trainer, Britannicus, had the _magnificent_ idea to combine lessons with his other pupil, none other than the godlike, oh-so-powerful, marvelous Cato Hadley today. Joy to the world.

Yes, I will admit, he's much more adept at the sword than I am, but that doesn't hold a candle to my knifing skills.

"Getting tired, kitten?" Cato sneers.

This jibe sends a fiery energy through my veins and I lunge forward with more drive, sending my own sword blade to his throat. "Never," I hiss back.

After dueling some more, the previously burning energy has begun to recede. Cato starts driving me backwards. Every step forward solicits two steps back. Finally he pins me to the far wall. "I win," he says viciously. "Again."

I spit in his face. "Because you're far too cowardly to touch the knives and risk, oh my god, could it be? Losing? But of course not, we can't take the chance."

His blue eyes glare down at me. "SAY THAT TO MY FACE."

That idiot, Britannicus, finally notices that the huge man-mass has more than a decent chance at killing me right now, and calls out, "That's enough, Cato!"

Cato releases me, but not before aiming a kick at my shin. I keep the scream in, but that bruise just one more hindrance that's going to restrain my chances of volunteering at the reaping in six months. If the little girl can be injured so easily with just a kick to the leg, how can she survive the Hunger Games? That's what everyone thinks. Well, this little girl doesn't go down without a fight.

"That's it for today, guys," Britannicus informs us. "You're welcome to stay, but no more than an hour or you'll have to pay for a space." Hell. Everyone knows that I can't afford to pay money for extra time at the Academy. My mother works too hard just for the training Britannicus offers, which is already cheap (but of quality) compared to other trainers.

"Poor little deprived kitten," Cato croons viciously. "She can't even afford a few hours in a private space so she can continue failing at fencing. Poor little Clover."

Anger surges up inside of me and I bite back a scream of anger. I settle for an angered hiss. "Shut. Up. NOW."

"Make me," Cato sneers. "You know you can't."

I lunge at him, screaming obscenities and pulling a small pocketknife from my shoe. "YOU RICH LAZY ASS! YOU THINK MONEY GUARANTEES SUCCESS? LET ME TELL YOU, I DON'T HAVE MUCH MONEY, BUT I MADE IT TO THE ACADEMY ON A SCHOLARSHIP, AND I COULD THROW KNIVES BETTER WHEN I WAS TEN THAN YOU CAN SWORD-FIGHT NOW! POVERTY WAS MY MOTIVATION, AND IT HAS MADE ME A BETTER FIGHTER THAN YOU WILL EVER BE! ALL YOU HAVE IS YOUR ANGER! THAT WON'T GET YOU _ANYWHERE_."

Cato's eyes fill with ice, and he shoves me so I'm slammed against the wall. "You insolent _bitch_."

I disregard the insult, and instead notice that this is one of few exceptions to the fact that Cato pretty much never calls me anything but "kitten," and "Clover."

"Insolent, maybe," I consent, trying to cool my temper. "But I have reason for it."

"Kitten, you couldn't reason with a rock," Cato says patronizingly. "At some point, you have to face the fact that I can beat you."

I resist the urge to punch him, and instead slip out the door fuming.

I throw my bag onto the table when I get home. "MOM I'M BACK!" I shout, opening the cabinet. I pull out an apple and go to my room. "Mom?" I call out.

There's no answer. I slip into her bedroom, finding it empty. I go through the rest of the house to no avail. It's fine. She probably had to work later over at the quarry. It's happened before.

An hour passes, and I start working out, due to boredom. After what has to be my fiftieth pushup, a knock sounds at the front door. She doesn't have a key, either? Wow.

I swing it open, and instead of my mother, a tall Peacekeeper stands on the threshold. "Clove Sevina?" he asks.

"Y-yes," I stutter, nervousness threatening to pour into my voice.

"Come with me."

I step outside in my tank top and shorts, hugging my shoulders. It's past eight now. The official leads me through the woods. I recognize the well-worn path. It's the way to the quarry. Dread fills my heart and I speed up.

The path finally breaks through the trees after maybe fifteen minutes of walking, and I see lights in the quarry.

I start jogging down the hill until I reach the edge of the pit. A female official asks me, "Are you Clove, daughter of Autumn Sevina?"

"Yes," I say anxiously. "Where's my mother?"

The Peacekeeper helps me down and I move closer to the crowd of people, shoving through until I can see the body of a woman lying still. She has the same dark hair as me, and her lifeless hazel eyes stare up at the sky. I nearly gag at the horrible dent in her skull. Her arms are scratched and bloodied, and a gash in her leg still drips blood.

I drop to my knees, and a thin wailing scream erupts somewhere in the crowd. My mind is spinning, and somewhere in the cyclone of thoughts, a notion hits me, that this pained shrieking is coming from me.

Thunder crackles overhead, and a light drizzle begins to fall. I throw myself on top of my mother's body as if to protect her from the rain, and weep. My last bit of family is all gone. All that was necessary was the footstep on a rock that couldn't take anymore to crash down and kill her.

A pair of hands reaches down to pull me up, but I fight against it. "NO!" I scream hysterically.

"Clover?" A bewildered voice cuts through the crowd. A familiar tall figure steps through the throng of people and stands behind me. "What are you doing here?"

"WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M DOING HERE?" I cry. "MY MOTHER IS DEAD. SHE DIED IN THE QUARRY THAT _YOUR _FATHER IS IN CHARGE OF!" Then I bury my face in my mother's neck and continue crying.

Eventually everything fades away into nothingness as I black out.

**A/N: PLEASE PM FEEDBACK TO ME :) I'd really appreciate it, as I haven't really written many fanfictions.**


	4. Chapter 3

Clove:

All I know is darkness. There is only darkness, pain, and silent struggles to win a battle against an unbeatable enemy. Time does not exist in the warring waves of my heart and my mind. The unrelenting surf pushes harder to overcome the bit of humanity I have left, on a little island in the dark swells of myself. I am Clove Sevina, supposedly the unbeatable knife-thrower. If they could only see me like this…

The slowly decreasing amount of logic and sensibility within me confronts the ever-aching pain in my heart. I can _feel_ the loss, the loss of someone important to me.

And then there is a little girl, being carried through the waves like a rag doll. I can see her in my mind's eye. She has long dark hair like me, pale skin like mine, the same almond-shaped hazel eyes, but she has innocence in them; the innocence that I never possessed.

"Mother?" she calls out bravely. Silence follows, and the sea pulls her under. I watch, able to do nothing yet knowing that I can do anything within this land. Her head pops up again, and this time her voice rises in a desperate, childish screech. "MOMMY! MOMMY HELP M-!" and she's pulled down again.

I scream. And then I wake up.

The first thing I see when I wake up is a pair of unfamiliar blue eyes. I choke back a sob of fear.

"Yes, she's alive." A tall blonde man straightens up and dusts off his hands.

"Oh, _yay_," a sarcastic male's voice says. "_Great_."

"Shut up, Cato," a girl says dryly. _Cato?_ "Not all of us are contemptuous idiots."

"_Well_, Rena," drawls the boy, "you can't _possibly_ be talking about _me. _I have _never_ been addressed as a contemptuous idiot."

"You learn something new every day."

"Children, stop fighting," a tired older woman's voice cuts through Cato's response.

"BUT MOM!" they say as one.

"You interrupted my amazing comeback to Rena," Cato complains.

"Cato's an idiot," Rena snaps back. "He'll never come up with one as good as mine."

I raise my head and look at the people whom I've been listening to for some time. Rena is a fair-skinned, blonde girl with green eyes, looking to be a couple years older than Cato. Cato's blue eyes are boiling at me. I know he's seventeen. His mother shares Rena's emerald irises, but it seems they've both got light hair from Mr. Hadley.

"Why am I here?" I rasp, voice hoarse with disuse.

"You're a charity case," Cato says scornfully. "My poor mother was overwhelmed with sympathy for you, and just _had _to offer you a place to stay."

"Cato!" Mrs. Hadley looks shocked.

"Is it not true?" I challenge her. "So don't bother, I'm leaving."

"They won't let you stay anywhere alone until you're sixteen," Rena calls out. Crap. I still have two years to go.

"Why did you tell her that?" Cato rolls his eyes. "Do you WANT her to stay?"

"Yes, because I need someone else around this house who can kick your ass just as well as I can," Rena replies.

"Pshhhh, you? Kicking _my_ ass? In your dreams, sister."

I smile, but quickly hide it, because happiness can easily equal vulnerability.

"Rena!" Cato's mother says. "Do not talk to your brother that way."

"Why shouldn't I?" she grumbles. "He talks to me like that. Respect your elders, Cato."

His only answer to this is an eye-roll and a rude insult.

"Cato, come with me," Mrs. Hadley says sternly. She leads him out of the room.

Rena grins at me and slips after them.

It has been a month.

I visited the Justice Building intending to apply for a permit that would let me live alone. I was denied. I won't even be fifteen until after the reaping; it's still several months away.

My weak solution has been staying out until one or two in the morning, and leaving the house before sunrise. I've been training harder than ever. My mother, father, and sister are all gone. I will volunteer, whether the Hadleys like it or not.

I've taken up harpoons and bows, maces and clubs. None fit my hand as well as a knife blade. I dare not touch the swords.

I've charged the payments to the Hadleys' bank account; they won't miss it. It must be a fraction of the money Mr. Hadley makes in an hour.

This particular morning, 5:30 am, has been going rather ordinarily, I suppose, save for the absence of Britannicus. On usual occasions he'd be here yelling at me, but it's oddly silent. Only the sound of my breathing pierces the still air every so often.

Today, I've decided to come back to my roots and go through knife-throwing moves.

I throw a small knife that might as well be just a stark metal blade. I notice that instead of my perfect bulls-eye, it sticks slightly to the left of the center dot. That's strange. I don't miss. I pick up a more weighted one and aim it to the center. This one veers down.

"Good lord," I mutter, "what's up with me?"

A ghostly breeze flows through the Academy. It whistles through the crevices of the equipment and ceiling rafters. It vaguely sounds like it's saying "kitten, die."

I bet Cato would like it if I kicked the bucket. Less competition, though I don't know why it bothers him. He's a guy, I'm a girl; we could both be chosen for the Games in the spring, though God forbid we are.

I shiver in the stillness. Dawn light is slowly filling the room and washing out the lights, but the February chill hangs in the air.

A door creaks. I freeze. Who's there? The others don't usually get here until eight.

I hear heavy breathing, as if a person had just run several miles.

"Who is it?" I call out. "Show yourself already."

I swear I hear muffled footsteps pattering through the room.

A huge mass tackles me to the mat. I whip around and claw the first thing I come in contact with, the person's face. He roars and clobbers me in the head. I see stars as I fall back down.

I catch a flash of blonde hair whirring through my vision. It must be Cato.

_Stay down_, I tell myself. _You're out cold._ I slacken my muscles and lie flopped on the mat.

I smell something sickly sweet nearby and realize Cato has come prepared. Chloroform? Really?

I crack open an eye very slightly and see Cato's back turned as he soaks a rag. I get up silently, ignoring the burn in my head. I leap up onto a stack of mats and slip into the rafters, wincing at the clang of my running shoe against the metal beams.

He looks up. "_Bitch_." He knows he can't chase me through the bars. I'm barely ninety pounds, and he easily weighs twice that.

He can't catch me, so he stands there and talks up at me. "You should never have gone anywhere after your mother died," he says savagely. "No one should have helped you. You don't _deserve_ it. They should have just left you there or taken you to the goddamn orphanage, and you would never have been able to keep training, because only God knows how much you can improve from now to the Games despite your age." Cato glares at me. "_I_ wasn't supposed to have competition, _I _was supposed to be the best of all, _and I will not let a teeny little fourteen year old take that AWAY!_"

_Ah._ It's all about my talent.

"You shouldn't be here. It's _my _year. _Mine_. I'll make sure of it." He whips around and leaves.

**A/N: Haven't written in a whole long time but SCHOOL'S OVER so I have timeeeee.**


	5. Chapter 4

Cato:

It's too late to think about if it's right or not. It's done. Not yelling at Clove, oh no, not that. I did something else to her.

You see, Clove keeps three pictures in her room, right next to her bed. She's got one of her mother, one of her father, and one of her sister.

So while she was out training I destroyed them. It's that simple. I'm not sure what I'd hoped to achieve with the act of maliciousness, but I suppose all I was thinking of was the rage that a fourteen-year-old is as good as I am.

When I saw a dark haired head coming up the way to the Hadley mansion, I duck into the deep closet (which Clove never uses) and wait.

A few minutes later, the door opens and Clove enters. She takes off her coat, throws it onto the bed and catches sight of the ruined pictures. She freezes. I shattered the glass frame containing her mother's image, dented the strong iron frame with the picture of her father, and sliced apart the innocent wood frame that held the photo of her little sister.

Clove drops to her knees by her nightstand and grabs at the fragments, starting to shake. Even through the small crack between the closet door and the doorframe I can see the blood blossoming on her palms. She rocks back on her heels, presses her bloody hands to her face and screams. It's miserable and sad.

Though she's arrogant and rude sometimes, I start doubting that she deserves such a thing done to her. Then I shake it off because I'm an arrogant prick and I really don't care about anything except winning.

I'm starting to develop a cramp, crammed into the closet like so. After several minutes, Clove makes a move, salvaging what little paper she can from the mess, and leaves the room. I practically fall out of the closet, get up, and stagger toward the door.

Then the worst thing possible happens. Clove comes back. Her door swings open when I touch the handle, and suddenly a pair of hazel eyes is staring up at me with the worst mixture of pain and anger in them.

"What. The. Hell. Are you doing here?" Clove says in the smallest but deadliest voice ever.

"I- uh- I- I wanted to, um," I stammer. If there's one thing I'm bad at, it's lying my way out of situations. I blurt out the first thing that pops into my head. "I was waiting for you. I wanted to apologize."

"Why?" she demands. "You're CATO. You hate my guts, because my mom _died _and I had to come live with you, you little shit. You think you're all high and mighty, but you have equals. You just can't acknowledge them. And _you_ don't apologize."

She's got a point. I tell myself to focus. "But if you're going to live here until you get your own place, we might as well make peace. For now."

Clove narrows her eyes. "I'll think about it. Get out."

I head down the hall, whistling casually. _I got myself out of that one. _I don't ever consider how it could come back to bite me in the ass.

The next day I'm at training, slicing back to back with my normal sparring partner, Julius, when Britannicus, the devil, stops me.

"Actually, Cato, you'll be working with Clove again today," he says, marking something on his clipboard.

I open my mouth to object, but he holds up a hand. "No. I know you and Julius are fine partners, but you must learn to work with everyone. I told her to use a sword today. Go help her. You're the best chance she has. Then I want you to fight _with _her."

"But…"

"No buts, Cato. You won't get picked for the Games if you can't fight in sync with your district partner, whoever she may be." _Bloody Britannicus. _

"Fine."

"Good, that's what I like to hear."

Clove is wielding a huge sword at a trainer a few meters away. She's short, barely clearing 5 feet, and the sword is at least half her height.

She swings at his head. It's messy and she almost falls down with the momentum. In a flash he's shoved her to the mat with the sword over her heart.

"Kitten," I say loudly. "You need help."

She glares at me. "Thanks."

"And," I continue, "I have been assigned to help. No need to thank me, there'll be plenty of time for that later."

"I'll help," Julius interrupts. "You can fight Cato and I'll help you." I know he just wants to help Clove because he likes her.

"Julius…" Britannicus has somehow learned to teleport, and he appears by me. "You're working with Raina today."

I can practically see the lightbulb go off, because Raina is a pretty but deadly girl as well. Before he leaves, he mutters something in my ear. "Invite Clove to the squad."

The squad is a group of us who frequently hunt at night. We call ourselves the Wolves. It's pretty secret and only the best of fighters make it in. I was nominated for leader by the previous head. Julius is my second-in-command. Nobody outside of it is supposed to know I'm the captain. Everyone knows it exists, and it breaks all the laws, but it's a District 2 thing, and the motto is "only the worthy survive." Everybody respects that.

I drag a dummy over to Clove. "Cut its arm off." I say.

She swings. While she's bringing the blade back, I press one hand to her waste and one to her stomach. "Keep it tight. You'll get more control."

She stiffens, but manages to slice the other arm off and reset faster.

I keep my hands where they are, feeling the muscles taut under the skin. Clove manages to decapitate the dummy and cut its legs off with moderately neat form.

"Keep going," I tell her. "Tomorrow I'll duel you."

She flashes me a smirk. "Don't go easy on me."

I grin back. "As if I'd ever."

"Bring it, Pretty Boy."

**A/N: 3 3 3 in the airrr! Jk jk. Make your own assumptions. *wiggle eyebrows* PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! Criticism gladly accepted. :) **


	6. Chapter 5

Clove:

Cato trains me in the "prestigious art of sword battle", as he puts it, and in return, I teach him how to use a knife. It's basic stuff, distance calculations with putting force on the blade, and stabbing and swiping moves, but he struggles with the small weapon.

On the fifth time he uses it wrong, I grab his arm. "No! If you swing it like a sword, you won't have enough range of movement! Look. Don't hesitate. Just stick it in!"

Cato smirks. "That's what she said."

Against my will, I have to snicker. The snicker turns into a laugh. And then Cato and I are just laughing our asses off with lethal weapons in our hands.

"Cato? Clove? This is the fighting academy, not the 'let's-tell-dirty-jokes-and-laugh-ourselves-to-death academy'." Britannicus's stern face looms over me from where I'm flopped on the mat, still cackling.

Cato grins. "Are you going to tell me that wasn't the perfect setup?"

I smile back. "I set myself up for that one."

He sticks out his hand, and I grab it to pull myself up.

"Well it's obvious you won't be getting anymore work done," Britannicus sighs. "Go home."

I go to the lockers, throw a jacket on, and grab my bag. Cato is waiting outside. "Let's get burgers."

We walk to the nearest food plaza and he orders several large hamburgers.

"Cato, if you eat too much food, puke in a gutter, and get murdered, I'll have to let you know, I'm taking your car. But like don't die or anything, I don't want to train with Julius, he's annoying."

He waves a hand. "Shut up."

In the next half hour, Cato eats his way through four burgers and downs a bottle of beer. We discuss school (he graduated…barely; I still have three years to go), training worries (we both have horrible skills with maces), and a short conversation on our dating lives (both nonexistent…).

He orders more alcohol and consumes it all. By then his words are slurred and his hands unstable. I excuse myself to use the restroom and by the time I'm back, he's gone.

I swear he's trolling me, but when I ask the employee at the cash register, she says Cato staggered out of there, drunk as hell, right after I went off.

I frown. His cell phone is sitting on the table. I put it into my pocket and pay the bill with Hadley money, then head outside.

I jog around the area, searching for anywhere a person could have gone in 2 minutes. I find nothing.

_He'll find his way back._ That's what I tell myself. I walk back and let myself in quietly. His parents are out. Rena is probably with friends.

The clock strikes midnight. Rena returns at half past. Cato's parents come home as well. They don't bother me. They've learned not to. They don't ask where Cato is either.

Finally, at three in the morning, I'm polishing my knives and hear a knock. Everyone else is likely asleep. I slip down the steps and open the door. The sight that greets me is shocking. A Peacekeeper without a helmet is standing outside.

"Rena Hadley?" He says gruffly.

"N-no." I dread what's coming. "But she's upstairs. I live with the Hadleys. Do you know where Cato is?"

He rubs his forehead. "Well, we've found your friend."

**A/N: DUN DUN DUNNNNN! AND IM UPDATING AGAIN! I would have posted these 2 chapters way sooner but 's doc manager doesn't always work for me so :( REVIEW PLEASE :)**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: HEYYYY ITS BACK! I'm thinking of expanding into anime, as peer pressured by Vieux, xx-flawlesspizza-xx, and others, so tell meh what ya think.**

_Dead in an alley_, I think. _Cato is dead in an alley_.

I gape at the officer. "What? Where's Cato?" I hate myself in that moment for sounding like an obsessive girlfriend.

"He's still alive, for starters." I let out a breath I don't know that I'm holding.

"He drank too much somewhere, staggered into a bar, and proceeded to annoy the bartender and the customers. Bartender threw him out, and reported him to us," he says gruffly.

The Peacekeeper steps aside, revealing a stretcher with a certain blonde guy out cold on it.

"Cato," I murmur. I step forward, only to be blocked by the officer.

"I'm going to need to talk to his parents or legal guardians. For now I'll take him to the hospital. I'll be back at a more…suitable time. Expect me here at noon." With that, he and his friend wheel the stretcher away.

I shut the door and sink against it, my heart slowing.

"Clove?" Mrs. Hadley peers over the railing. "Who could be here at this ungodly hour?"

"Peacekeeper. They've got Cato. He's coming back at noon to have a talk and Cato's at the hospital now." I use the door to shove myself to my feet.

Mrs. Hadley sighs. "Not again. All right. You go to bed, and at noon, you and Rena can go visit him while we have a little…chat with the government."

I only nod, and run up the stairs back to my room. I fall into my bed and stare at the ceiling for a while. When did I start to care? Why do I care? What is this feeling?

Soon, I drift off, and am woken by Rena shaking my shoulders. "It's 11:30. Let's go!"

She leads me off down the street. It's only a quarter mile to the nearest hospital where they've taken Cato. The wealthy of District 2 have easy access to everything.

Rena signs us in, we get printed visitor badges, and the nurse escorts us down the hall. "He's got alcohol poisoning. He'll be fine, of course, but naturally in his intoxicated state, he's pulled several muscles and sprained his ankle. No training for a week, none. Should he disobey, he'll make it worse and he won't be able to volunteer for the Hunger Games."

Everyone knows Cato is one of the top tributes for the Games this year, I guess.

"All right, here we go." The woman pulls the door open and leaves us be.

"Hey there, ya little shit." Rena grins down at her brother. "Drink much?"

"Hi, big shit," Cato mutters with his eyes closed. "I don't drink more than you do."

That's true. Rena's gotten drunk more times than I can count and had to be driven home by her friends.

"Whatever," Rena says, throwing her blonde hair over her shoulder carelessly. "I'm going to get coffee." She flounces off, hairflipping again.

I take her place next to Cato's bed. "I was very specific that you not die, Cato."

"Clove?" Cato's eyes flicker open. "Hi."

"How do you feel?" I say awkwardly. Mushy stuff is not my thing.

"Like my face got run over by a car," he groans, closing his eyes again. "It's all too bright, and it's too loud."

I laugh. "Your fault. In the two minutes that I used the restroom you managed to run off."

"Not…my…fault," he mutters exhaustedly.

Not really paying attention, I brush my fingers across his forehead, smoothing the light hair away.

"Clove?" Rena sticks her head back into the room. "Mom wants me to go out now. You can stay with him until I get back. It'll only be an hour. Later she'll stop by and he can come home."

I nod. Cato has drifted off again. I scroll through shallow television shows to pass time.

"Clove? I'm thirsty." Cato's voice is raspy and tired. I fill a cup of water for him, help him sit up, and monitor him drinking it.

His eyes droop again when he sinks back down. I continue watching my show.

Rena and Mrs. Hadley come in. They help Cato stagger to his feet and we all pile into a car.

Later, I head over to the Academy, making sure to inform Cato of it so he finally can feel jealous, and dive back into practice.

"Clove, where is Cato?" Britannicus appears with his clipboard.

"Alcohol poisoning," I answer, nearly hitting him with the sword.

"Oh dear," he marks something on the paper, "his mother shouldn't let that get out to the public; a drunken potential tribute, oh that wouldn't do any good."

I shrug. "Don't talk to me. We got food, I went to the bathroom, and he ran off."

Britannicus sighs. "God knows what things go on in that boy's head. However, he's got a good set of muscles, so we might get some pride for this district this year."

I nod.

"Good work, Clove. You stand a better chance this year than many other female tributes did at your age. Who knows, we could pick you for the seventy-fourth."

I try to hide the burst of excitement that fills me. His words are casual but they mean a lot.

A huge blast of reality slaps me in the face. Cato. He's nearly guaranteed to be the male tribute this year. If we're chosen, one of us will have to face the death of the other. A little while ago, I wouldn't have given a crap.

Since when did I start to care?

**A/N: I started this ages ago and I know its super short, but I mean shit went down..? kinda? So...yeah...? ANYWAYS ANY REVIEW HELPS and if you happen to like anime give me some recommendations. :) Let's see if I'm motivated enough to write more today lol, until next timee**


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